


the little things i've got

by starlight_sugar



Series: The General Specific [9]
Category: Rooster Teeth/Achievement Hunter/Funhaus RPF
Genre: Alternate Universe - Professors, Multi
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-26
Updated: 2016-02-26
Packaged: 2018-05-23 08:59:06
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,575
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6111508
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/starlight_sugar/pseuds/starlight_sugar
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“He’s dating one of the English professors at the school,” Cole adds. “It’s disgusting.”</p><p>“What the fuck,” Jon says, because it is absolutely not the students’ place to call them disgusting. It’s their own prerogative.</p><p>(Or: spring semester is always chaos. Jon's spring semester looks like no exception.)</p>
            </blockquote>





	the little things i've got

**Author's Note:**

> Rooster Teeth does not have my permission to use any portion of my writing in their content.

The first thing Jon hears as he approaches the theater is yelling. Not angry yelling or scared yelling, just yelling. Loud enough that he notices it from ten feet outside the closed doors.

“Hi, Professor Risinger,” Maggie says as she walks past him. She looks busy, but she’s also more likely to have answers than he is.

Jon turns to her, hoping he doesn’t look as lost as he feels. “Who’s in there?”

Maggie stops and gives Jon a strange look. “The play is in there.”

“I know that, my boyfriend wrote it.” And that’s a strange kind of thrill, knowing that Miles made this happen, but it’s not the point. “I mean who’s yelling?”

“Listen a little longer, you’ll figure it out.” Maggie grins and goes back to wherever she’s going.

Jon gives the door a look of confusion. He doesn’t know most of the cast of the play, beyond Jeremy, but it’s definitely not him. It’s not Miles or Kerry, it’s not Ryan, and it’s not Lindsay. Therefore, he has no fucking clue who it could be. Except-

“-like you wouldn’t fucking  _ believe _ ,” the voice yells, and Jon frowns. Maggie’s right. He knows that voice. It’s not a theatre voice, but he knows it.

“It’s meant to be ridiculous,” the voice continues, and Jon pushes the door open to see Joel Heyman standing on the stage. Really, Jon doesn’t know why he’s surprised. If there’s anyone who belongs on a stage yelling, it’s Joel.

Jeremy, who’s standing next to Joel, folds his arms. “So all the weirdest shit, I’m just supposed to play that up?”

Joel whips an arm to point at Jeremy. “Exactly! This play is about  _ aliens, _ Jeremy, it’s not just your run of the mill college theatre bullshit. This is weird, and you’re being normal. This is not the time or place for normal.”

“It’s supernatural,” Kerry yells. Jon cranes his neck and sees him in the front row, sitting between Jon and Ryan. “Don’t be boring.”

“Professor Shawcross, I don’t think I could make this play boring if I tried,” Jeremy says.

“Oh, so you’re not trying?” Joel demands.

Jon sits down in the back row, propping his knees on the seat in front of him and pulling out his tablet. This is going to be a good place for creativity, just as long as nobody-

“Hey, Jon,” someone says, and Lindsay Jones plops down in the seat in front of him, sitting backwards to face him.

-interrupts him.

“Hey, Lindsay,” Jon says, flipping his tablet cover closed. “Why’s Joel here?”

“He’s a theatre dude,” Lindsay says cheerfully. “He double-majored undergrad. Econ and theatre with a concentration in performance.”

Jon looks at her warily. “How do you know that?”

Lindsay shrugs. “He mentioned it five or six times when he was trying to convince us to let him come in for rehearsals. We brought him in because Jeremy’s not loud enough.”

“Jeremy’s not loud enough,” Jon repeats. That sounds like total fucking bullshit. Jeremy isn’t disruptive in class or anything like that, but he does talk to Jon after class, and he’s the lead actor in a play. He doesn’t seem like he’d have trouble being loud.

“For the character,” Lindsay amends. “We think it’s working, though.”

Jon nods. If anyone in this world could make someone be louder, it’s Joel Heyman, the weirdest economics professor on God’s green earth. “How’s set shit coming?”

Lindsay slumps a little bit. “Your boyfriend doesn’t want any expense spared,” she tells him. “Not that that’s a bad thing, they give us a budget so that we can spend it, but Jesus, he wants some weird things for this play.”

“For the play about aliens,” Jon says flatly.

Lindsay rolls her eyes. “The students are doing great, though,” she offers. “I know a couple of mine were yours. Maggie’s been kicking ass, she’s better at delegating than I am.”

Maggie is a business major, if Jon remembers right. Also, he’s pretty sure that she’s going to take over the world. He will be proud to live under her, if that happens. He’s not surprised at all to hear that.

“I’m not surprised at all to hear that,” he says.

“Yeah, I figured,” Lindsay snorts. “And Matt said you sent him over to stage crew, he’s been working on sets. I’ve been trying to get him to come to an actual rehearsal so he can see the play, but he’s always down there, sawing shit and saying no.”

“Has he met Griffon?”

“I’m a little worried that he has, actually.”

Jon grins at the thought of Matt, floppy-haired or otherwise, sawing away at a set piece. “He’s going to be good, eventually.”

“He’s already pretty great,” Lindsay admits. “Next you’re going to tell me that Jeremy’s yours too.”

“He is.”

“Shut the fuck up.”

“And for our final trick,” Joel shouts, and Jon can’t help but look at the stage. Joel is looking straight back at him. Jon thinks that might be a sign that he should be worried. “We have a visitor.”

Miles, Kerry, and Ryan all turn around from the front row. “Hi, Jon,” Kerry stage-whispers. Miles waves. Ryan turns back to the stage.

“I’m visiting,” Jon says. “I’m doing work, but-”

“You’re talking during rehearsal, Jon,” Joel says, somehow sounding both patient and affronted at the same time. “So we’re going to use this as a lesson. Jeremy, tell him to get the fuck out.”

“Leave, Professor Risinger,” Jeremy says obediently.

Joel pinches the bridge of his nose. “No, that’s not what I said, you need to tell him to get the fuck out of here. He’s a distraction.”

“I’m not distracted,” Jeremy says, looking back at Jon.

Jon shrugs. “I’m not very compelled to move, just so you know.”

“All you have to say is ‘get the fuck out,’” Joel adds. “You’ve probably said it before, you’ve had lots of practice.”

“Be dramatic, Jeremy,” Lindsay calls, and slides out of her seat into the aisle so there’s nobody in between Jeremy and Jon. Jon arches an eyebrow at Jeremy.

Jeremy sighs and sets his shoulders in a straight line. He points at the back door of the theater and meets Jon’s eyes evenly. “Get the fuck out, dickstick.”

“Oh my god,” Lindsay says, as Miles bursts into laughter. Jeremy doesn’t waver, which is impressive, considering that he’s going to be in Jon’s classroom in under twenty-four hours.

Joel gives Jeremy an approving nod. “Nice job. The dickstick was a nice touch.”

“The dickstick was a nice touch,” Jon repeats, pushing himself out of his seat. He can work in his office just fine. “That’s one of the greatest sentences I’ve ever heard.”

“Sorry, Professor Risinger,” Jeremy says. “You dickstick.”

“Bye, Jon,” Miles adds, waving again. “It’s cute that you tried to visit!”

Jon waves back at him as he leaves the theater. Jeremy is going to be a good lead character. And he really hopes the word dickstick makes it somewhere in the final cut of the play.

.

From: Meg (9:24 AM)   
So you can come to the studio sometime next week right?

To: Meg (9:37 AM)   
Yeah, as long as afternoons are all right

From: Meg (9:38 AM)   
All of our reporters are going to cry with joy

From: Meg (9:38 AM)   
You’re a hero, Jon whose last name I still don’t know

From: Meg (9:40 AM)   
Jon what’s your last name

To: Meg (9:41 AM)   
You’ll never know

From: Meg (9:41 AM)   
Did you forget that I’m dating your coworker, Professor Risinger?

To: Meg (9:42 AM)   
I did, actually

.

From: Jordan (6:23 PM)   
i’m moving drinks night to tonight

From: Jordan (6:27 PM)   
and by that i mean i’m drunk

From: Jordan (6:41 PM)   
joooooooooooooooooooooon

To: Jordan (6:43 PM)   
It’s not even seven yet what the fuck are you drinking about

From: Jordan (6:44 PM)   
boy problems

To: Jordan (6:47 PM)   
Great, now I’m going to need to get drunk too

.

“It’s like,” Jordan says, gesturing with his beer. His cheeks are red, and he wobbles dangerously on his bar stool. “It’s like, it’s not that I wouldn’t move in with him. Because I would. I like Brandon. I like him a lot.”

“Mmhm,” Jon says, not looking up from his phone. He wonders how fast Miles would answer an SOS text. Ordinarily he’d feel bad about bailing, but with Jordan as drunk as he is, this night isn’t about bonding. He’s only worried that Jordan wouldn’t be able to get home.

“But it’s only-” Jordan pauses. “What month is it?”

“It’s been two months,” Cole says from behind the counter. He looks much, much too invested in Jordan’s story. Jon likes the kid, but it’s a little weird.

Jordan nods. “Two months. And I like him, but that doesn’t mean I want to live with him.”

Jon glances at Jordan. “You just said you would move in with him.”

“But two months!” Jordan sets his beer on the counter and rounds on Jon, looking distressed. “That’s. I don’t know him yet.”

“You don’t know him after dating him for two months?”

Cole gives Jon a genuinely affronted look. “I don’t think you’re understanding the situation here.”

“You’re right,” Jon says. “I’m not.”

Jon actually has a few reasons for not understanding the situation, first and foremost being he hasn’t been dating Miles much longer than Jordan has been dating Brandon. And, yeah, it’d be a little different if Miles asked him to move in, because they have to consider where they’ll live and what Chris will do, but they could still make something happen. It’s not too soon by some objective standard. If they want to live together they could damn well live together. Apparently Jordan doesn’t feel the same way, which is bullshit. Jon does not have time for this bullshit.

“I need more beer,” Jordan mumbles. “More drinking.”

Cole glances at the end of the bar, where two bartenders are standing together and talking. “Hey, Tyler.”

One of them looks over. “Yeah?”

Cole points at Jordan. “Is he at the cut-off point?”

Tyler looks Jordan up and down. Jordan gives Tyler the most pitiful look that he can manage. Jon goes back to his phone.

“Yeah, he is,” Tyler decides.

“No,” Jordan moans. “No, you can’t do this, I am a patron of this fine bar, you need to give me beer.”

“You’re drunk, Jay,” Jon says, as kindly as he can manage. “Very, very drunk.”

“I am  _ not _ two-very drunk,” Jordan says haughtily. “One very at most.”

“He does only look one-very drunk,” Cole says.

“If he’s cut off, he’s past the first very.” Jon shoots off a quick text to Chris (“I’m probably coming back in a few,” just so Chris knows where he is) and pockets his phone. “We can talk about this another day, but we’re not going to do it when you’re drunk.”

“But it’s easier to talk about things when I’m drunk,” Jordan whines. “I don’t want sober advice, that means everything is real.”

“Don’t make it real,” Cole says at once, completely earnest.

“Quit kissing his ass,” Jon answers. “Jordan, did you drive here?”

Jordan shakes his head, coming close to losing his balance in the process. “No, I took an Uber. It was-” he giggles slightly. “It was uber fun.”

“That wasn’t even funny,” Jon says. Because it wasn’t.

“I don’t want to go home,” Jordan answers, and he curls in on himself slightly. “Home makes me think of living places, and that makes me think of Brandon.”

“Jordan,” Tyler says. Jon looks over at him; he’s standing closer now, leaning over the counter. “Do you need me to kick Brandon’s ass?”

“Nnnnnn- ye- maybe,” Jordan says, looking thoughtful. “Could you?”

Jon doesn’t know if Tyler could kick much of anyone’s ass, as short as he is, but then again the man owns a sports bar. He’s probably stronger than he looks.

“If he deserved it,” Tyler answers. His eyes slide over to Jon, and he tilts his head, looking curious. “I don’t think I’ve met you.”

“I’m the designated driver, apparently,” Jon mutters. “I’m Jon, I work with Jordan.”

“He’s dating one of the English professors at the school,” Cole adds. “It’s disgusting.”

“What the  _ fuck, _ ” Jon says, because it is absolutely not the students’ place to call them disgusting. It’s their own prerogative.

Tyler sighs, looking mock disappointed. “All the pretty ones are taken, huh?”

“I’m not, don’t worry,” Cole says brightly, and goes to talk to the third bartender still standing off to the side.

Tyler’s face turns a strange shade of pink, but he still makes steady, careful eye contact with Jon. “Make sure he gets home, all right? He’s one of my favorite regulars.”

Jon glances at Jordan in surprise. “You’re a regular now?”

“I’m a regular charmer,” Jordan mumbles. “I changed my mind, Jon, I wanna go home.”

“Yeah, I’ll get you home.” Jon looks back at Tyler. “He’ll be back in one piece to talk about who deserves the Heisman, or whatever. Don’t worry.”

“Heisman?” Jordan repeats. “That’s a sports thing. You don’t know sports.”

“I know what the Heisman is.”

Tyler doesn’t look convinced. “What sport is it for?”

“Football,” Jon says, because he’s not sure if any other sports even have trophies. “Come on, Jordan. Let’s get going.”

“You’re a good drinking buddy because you don’t drink,” Jordan says. Jon kind of wishes he were drunk. It’d sure as shit make it easier to deal with a drunk person.

.

From: Chris (8:43 PM)   
is it too late to dibs the apartment for the night

To: Chris (8:45 PM)   
Probably not, let me check.

.

To: Miles (8:45 PM)   
Chris is trying to call dibs on the apartment for the night

From: Miles (8:48 PM)   
gosh if only you knew someone who would let you stay the night

From: Miles (8:48 PM)   
and cuddle with you and make out on the couch and all those other fun things

To: Miles (8:49 PM)   
I can think of a couple of people

From: Miles (8:51 PM)   
Jonathan.

To: Miles (8:52 PM)   
Not funny, sorry. Be there in ten?

From: Miles (8:54 PM)   
:D

.

To: Jordan (11:59 PM)   
I’m assuming you’re asleep, text me in the morning to prove you’re alive

To: Jordan (12:00 AM)   
Also if you have Tyler’s number tell him you’re alive too

From: Jordan (10:01 AM)   
jon why am i so hung over

To: Jordan (10:03 AM)   
That would be because you were drunk

From: Jordan (10:04 AM)   
fuck you and fuck your dinner with burnie i hate you

From: Jordan (10:10 AM)   
and thanks for taking me home.

To: Jordan (10:11 AM)   
Next time use me for sober advice, it looks like Cole is better at drunk logic than me

.

Dinner with Burnie is not a capital-E Event, which Jon appreciates. He doesn’t have the energy to deal with formal dinner with his boss. He’s glad that he works under someone cool enough to invite him and his boyfriend to casual dinner with him.

“Actually, it’s him and his fiancee,” Miles says, when Jon says as much when they arrive at Burnie’s house. “Burnie’s making waffles.”

“Burnie’s making waffles,” Jon repeats, and mentally files that away in his catalog of Burnie information. Professor, department chair, waffle-maker. Sounds about right. “Have you met his fiancee?”

Miles shoots him a surprised look. “You haven’t met her?”

“No, it’s been a while since my last Burnie dinner.”

“But you know who it is, right?”

Jon gets the distinct feeling that he’s missing a piece of this puzzle. “No, I don’t know her.”

Miles snorts as he gets out of the car. “Oh, you know her, you just don’t know that you know her.”

“I just- what?” Jon says, following Miles to the door. There’s a mystery afoot. “You’re being weird.”

“I can’t wait to see the look on your face,” Miles says as he rings the doorbell, which helps absolutely not at all.

“You could just tell me,” Jon points out, even though he knows it’s useless. If Miles is expecting a good reaction, he’s going to make sure he gets that reaction.

“Nah,” Miles says gleefully as the door opens.

“Hey, guys!” Burnie says, looking a lot less formal than he does at work. It’s one of the things Jon appreciates about Burnie: he’s versatile. He also looks just as good in a beanie and hoodie as he does in a suit and tie.

(Jon isn’t afraid to admit that his boss is a pretty man, okay. Burnie Burns is aesthetically pleasing. Jon is not going to deny himself the simple pleasure of acknowledging that. It makes life a lot easier.)

“Hey, Burnie!” Miles answers cheerfully, making his way inside. Jon tails behind him and wonders if he’s been there before. All of his own Burnie dinners have been out at weird hipster cafes. Burnie is good at finding those, mostly because they have good gluten-free things.

Burnie claps a hand on Jon’s shoulder, slowing their paces as they wander further into the house. “I feel like I haven’t seen you in years, how’ve you been?”

“Pretty good,” Jon answers honestly. It’s been a good handful of months for him, what with getting to teach better classes. And Miles. “How’s things with you?”

“Lots of university bureaucratic bullshit,” Burnie says, but he doesn’t sound too bothered. “And wedding planning, which is just as much bullshit sometimes. Have you met Ashley yet?”

“No, but I know him,” someone answers as Burnie guides Jon into the kitchen. And sure enough, Ashley Jenkins is leaning against the counter. She smiles at him. “You’re Meg’s Jon, right? The one who’s coming in to fix our graphic design titles?”

“Yup,” Jon answers, hoping his surprise doesn’t show. He had no idea that Ashley was engaged, much less to his boss. The odds seem incredibly low.

From where he’s standing by Ashley, Miles mouths  _ told you. _ Jon doesn’t roll his eyes, because Ashley and Burnie wouldn’t get it, but he comes outrageously close.

“Oh, thank god,” Ashley sighs, sounding completely genuinely relieved. Jon likes her already. “You’ve seen it, you know how fucked up some of them are. If you’re as good as Meg says you are, you’re about to be very popular with our news team.”

Jon grins. “I won’t say no to that.”

“Oh, he’s good,” Miles adds, a spark of pride in his voice. “He’ll fix your titles up real good.”

“Which is why we hired him to teach the new generation of title-fixers,” Burnie says. “Who wants waffles?”

It turns out that Burnie makes fucking amazing waffles. They’re good even when they’re all gluten-free, and that has a way of ruining a lot of foods. Somehow, when Jon files this into his mental list of things that he knows about Burnie, it fits in perfectly. Ashley also fits into that neatly. She and Burnie riff off each other like they were born to do it. He squirts whipped cream into her face at one point, and she smears it off her face and onto his.

(“Why don’t you let me do that to you,” Miles whispers.

“Because it’s fucking  _ gross, _ Miles,” Jon answers, trying to be quiet. It doesn’t work. Burnie bursts out laughing, and Ashley grins at him, eyes crinkling up around the corners.

“But we can be gross too,” Miles halfway whines. Jon doesn’t let him do anything with whipped cream. He does end up dolloping waffle batter on Jon’s nose. Which is still pretty cute.)

“Okay, so in the theme of gross couple things,” Burnie starts, when they all sit down with waffles. “I was going to do the whole ‘so what have you been working on’ thing, but we’re going to keep being gross. Jon, tell me what Miles has been up to.”

“Yeah, Jon, what have I been up to?” Miles echoes.

Jon shoots him a sideways look. “You wrote a play.”

Miles nods. “I did that.”

“A play?” Ashley repeats. “What’s it about?”

“I don’t know, I want to be surprised when I see it,” Jon admits. “I know there are aliens.”

“Why did you come to rehearsals then?” Miles demands. “That defeats the entire point of the surprise, Jon, what were you doing?”

“Hey, I helped,” Jon protests. “I was important to the atmosphere.”

Miles looks back at Ashley and Burnie. “That’s what Jon has been up to. Disrupting my rehearsals to try and improve the atmosphere.”

“Ryan’s rehearsals,” Jon mutters.

“Mine too!” Miles protests.

“What else has Jon been up to?” Burnie asks, clearly enjoying this far more than he should be. Jon can’t blame him. He and Miles are objectively pretty entertaining. It’s why they work so well together.

“Logo design,” Miles answers easily. “For an ad company. Which, if anyone should be able to design their own logo, it should be a company that designs logos, but that’s just my opinion.”

Burnie laughs. “Yeah, you’d think so. Guess they don’t know what they’re doing after all.”

“But I get paid,” Jon says smugly, and takes a triumphant bite of his waffle. Even if he agrees that advertising companies should be able to advertise, he’s sure as hell not going to complain about work.

“ And the logo’s going to be green,” Miles finishes. “So, Burnie, what’s Ashley been doing?”

Burnie sits up a little straighter. “Ashley has been filling in as a guest anchor on late-night news,” he says, clearly proud. “They’re going to move her to a busier segment, because she’s good at her job.”

“It’s not for sure yet,” Ashley adds, but she’s smiling as she says it.

“It’s for sure,” Burnie stage-whispers. “It’s done in everything except name.”

“They don’t know who’s going to fill in with Meg yet, but we’ve got some reporters we might shuffle around,” Ashley says. “It’s all going to work out great.”

“You’re great,” Burnie says. Ashley kisses him on the cheek. “Okay, best for last, what have I been up to?”

Ashley taps her fingers on the table. “Bureaucratic shit,” she says.

“Nice and specific,” Jon says.

Ashley grins. “Okay, fine, he’s surveying faculty about designing new minors in the arts and humanities. So, like, war history instead of just history.”

“So it’s just a bunch of bureaucratic shit,” Burnie finishes. “She was right the first time.”

“I would absolutely study war history,” Miles announces. “I don’t know anything about war, but that sounds fucking badass.”

“That program might not be for you, then,” Jon points out.

Miles gives him a sideways look. “What history should I study then?”

“1900s America,” Jon answers without hesitation. Miles would do well with that.

“Huh,” Miles says, and then a little more thoughtfully, “huh.”

“That’s not an actual minor,” Burnie says.

“Not yet,” Ashley adds. 

Burnie groans. “Shit, do I have to bring this up with the board? Are we going to have to design another new minor?”

“Only if people would minor in it,” Jon points out.

“I would!” Miles says. “I definitely would. Aw, Jon knows what I like about history.”

“True love,” Jon says drily. Miles throws an arm around his shoulders and smacks a loud kiss on his cheek.

Burnie glances at Ashley. “They’re giving us a run for our money, what do we do?”

“We’re getting married, babe,” Ashley says. “I think we’re doing just fine.”

“We’re still cuter, though,” Miles adds. Jon has to agree.

.

To: Miles (3:15 PM)   
Do people actually come to your office hours??

From: Miles (3:17 PM)   
most professors do in fact get students at their office hours

From: Miles (3:18 PM)   
your students just don’t love you like mine do

To: Miles (3:19 PM)   
Ouch

From: Miles (3:19 PM)   
at least you have one person that loves you

.

Matt notices the framed, signed cover of Uncanny X-Men 141 after about two weeks of crashing Jon’s office hours.

“What the fuck, did Chris Claremont sign that,” he demands. “Where did you get something that Claremont signed?”

“eBay,” Jon answers, spinning around in his chair to face Matt more fully. “Are you a comics guy?”

“Not really,” Matt admits. “But I dated a guy in high school who knew more about them. He liked Claremont a lot. That’s Days of Future Past, right? Like the movie?”

“Ehh.” Jon shrugs. “Are any comics really like the movies?”

“I have no clue,” Matt answers. “I don’t know the comics well enough to compare.”

“The answer is no,” Jon tells him, and goes back to tweaking the edges of the logo. Or, at least, he would, but someone else knocks on the door before he has the chance. He glances at the door. “Come on in.”

Matt blinks. “Other people come to these?”

“It’s been known to happen,” Jon says as Jeremy walks in. “Hey, it’s everyone’s favorite stage actor.”

“Hi, Professor Risinger,” Jeremy says, not sounding at all sheepish about the whole dickstick thing. That’s probably for the best. Sheepishness doesn’t suit him. He glances to the chair in the corner, and surprise flickers across his face. “Matt. Hey.”

“Hey,” Matt says, and clambers to his feet faster than Jon has ever seen. “I’ve gotta get to class. It was nice talking to you, professor.”

“You too,” Jon says, trying not to let his suspicion show. Two weeks is long enough to figure out a pattern. Matt doesn’t have to leave for another twenty minutes. He glances at Jeremy as soon as the door shuts behind Matt, trying to keep his face as neutral as possible. “I didn’t realize you two knew each other.”

“We went to high school together,” Jeremy answers. Maybe Jon is reading too far into this, but it sounds like there’s something artificially neutral in his tone too. “I haven’t seen him in a while, what the fuck happened to his hair?”

“Who knows,” Jon sighs. “What can I do for you?”

“Nothing, really,” Jeremy admits. “I just wanted to stop in and say hi, you’re always saying that nobody comes to office hours. Is Matt nobody?”

“Nah, he’s just not a current student. It’s not the same.”

Jeremy nods, looking around the office as he does. “All right, well, I have an appointment I need to get to, so I’ll leave you to your work and be on my- holy  _ shit _ is that a signed Claremont print?”

“Yeah, it is,” Jon says, not even bothering to look back at it. “You should come in sometime, I’ll edit your projects and we’ll talk comics.”

“Absolutely,” Jeremy says, with a note of childlike enthusiasm. Jon thinks they’re going to get along just fine. “See you in class, Professor Risinger.”

Jon waves him off and goes back to the logo, thinking vaguely about the power of coincidence. Both Jeremy and Matt recognizing the Claremont print? The odds seem slim. And what are the odds that Jeremy knew Matt in high school?

Actually, come to think of it, it’s strange that Matt recognized the print because of a high school ex. And that he’s been avoiding rehearsals where Jeremy acts. And left the room when Jeremy walked in.

Jon drops his tablet pen and smacks a hand to his forehead. “Oh, what the  _ fuck. _ ”

**Author's Note:**

> Title is from [Infinite Arms.](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=4H1h32vqDxE) And, as always, I post bonus things on [Tumblr](http://elysewillcms.tumblr.com) and [Twitter.](http://twitter.com/ezrabridgers) (What kind of bonus things, you ask? Mostly holiday headcanons. [Happy belated Valentine's Day, readers.](http://elysewillcms.tumblr.com/post/139340807507) I heart you all. Rock on.)


End file.
